I Know
by TC591
Summary: In my story "Back to Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes", Greg thinks about a talk him & Mycroft had after Sherlock came back & I thought it'd be cute to explore that. It's not explicit, it's just fluffy. May have to have read the other story/ies to understand. I do not own Sherlock. That honour goes to Arthur Conan Doyle, Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. NO COPYRIGHT INTENDED. [Finished]
1. Chapter 1

**So, remember this is set just after Sherlock comes back (in my story "Back to Baker Street, Sherlock Holmes") and isn't long or smutty (too much) but mostly fluffy. Enjoy!**

* * *

The driver pulled into the grounds and Mycroft and Greg looked at each other awkwardly for a second. Greg widened his eyes and exhaled as they exited the vehicle knowing what was coming and that it would be a long night.

"Thank you, Parker." Greg directed to the driver as he leaned on his crutches. Parker smiled, tipped his hat just a little and then drove away to park the car in the garage. The men were met, as always, by Albert standing on the step outside the house.

"Welcome home, Sirs."

"Albert." Mycroft nodded.

"Thanks, Albert." Greg smiled and followed Mycroft into the house reception area.

Albert helped Greg off with his jacket as he spoke and Mycroft was dealing with his own which was a stark contrast to what usually occurred when they got home. "The staff were unsure what to do about dinner, sirs."

"Well, if we co-"

Greg cut him off. "I fancy a takeaway." The two men looked to him and he shrugged. "It's going to be a long night, Mycroft. We may as well accept that now and stand down on all ceremony because I don't have the energy to pretend otherwise. Thank you." He directed that to Albert as the man awkwardly took his coat and then stood unsure of what to do as Mycroft had not motioned that he was going to take off his suit jacket.

"I think we should have this discussion alone."

Alfred nodded and made to leave when Greg spoke. "No Albert, hold on. And while we're at it, that's no way to talk to someone – as if they're not there. Albert works for you, he is an employee and not a pet." Mycroft straightened up into a defensive position in response to having his authority challenged in front of his staff. "This is my house as well, or it's meant to be, is it not?"

Greg's demeanour changed when he saw Mycroft's reaction; he changed to less harsh and angry but still firm and a little put out.

"Of course." Mycroft stated sincerely.

"Right, then I would like for us to slum it for tonight. Get a takeaway and give everyone the night off. To mirror what you just said, I would feel much more comfortable if tonight was just us." He gestured between them.

Mycroft softened when he realised that Greg was completely right. He turned to Albert. "Quite right." And he said nothing more as he turned to Greg again.

Greg smiled a little at the gesture before he turned to Albert. "Albert, could you perhaps find the phone book for me and then tell the staff, including yourself that they can have tonight off?"

"Of course, sir." Alfred started.

"And tomorrow." Mycroft added knowing that no matter how tonight went he would be too raw emotionally to deal with ceremony tomorrow.

"Sir." Alfred nodded again and as Mycroft turned Greg and he shared a look. Greg's was worry and Alfred's was polite reassurance.

Greg followed Mycroft into the drawing room, with a little difficulty and they stood in silence for a few minutes until Alfred returned with the phonebook. They thanked him and he left. Greg put his crutches in the corner of the room when the door at the end of the hall that led to the staff's quarters closed and Mycroft's face changed. Greg didn't see it since, as he sat down, he flicked through the phone book which he then draped over his knees. "What do you fancy then?" Mycroft walked to the fireplace looking at the flame without answering and Greg looked up when he was met with silence. "Mycroft?"

"Tonight is going to be long and stressful so I want to say this now." He turned to look at Greg. "So that everything we speak about after will not be laced with words that have nothing to do with it."

Greg closed the book on his knee with a heavy pop. "Okay?"

"I appreciate that we have different backgrounds and I want and _need_ you to tell me when I do or say things to people that may appear too cruel or rude. But, you need to understand that when you act like that, especially in front of staff, you demean me and, more importantly, make me feel small."

"Small?" Greg slid the book onto the couch beside him, put his left foot down cautiously and slowly walked over to Mycroft who watched him wince knowing that he would not listen to protests.

"Yes. Like I said, sometimes I don't realise when the way that I act is not appropriate or necessary and I want you to tell me. But I would much rather you told me when we are alone and, to be completely truthful, on occasion it has felt that you are so hung up on our differences and your desire not to be made to feel small by me that you overcompensate and make me feel that way instead. Even, perhaps, when it is not warranted."

Greg nodded thoughtfully. "You're right, I have done that and I'm sorry." Mycroft looked surprised. "I am still very self-conscious about our differences and I may have let that control me to the point of hurting you and for that I am genuinely sorry."

Mycroft's whole body language became softer. "Thank you. I wanted to get that off my chest so that when we spoke about everything I wouldn't be side-tracked."

Greg nodded and unbuttoned his suit jacket before letting it slide down his arms. He walked over to the couch, lay it over the back of it and picked the phone book back up. "Pizza?"


	2. Chapter 2

"Thanks, mate." Greg had paid the young delivery girl and hobbled to put the pizzas on the floor in the drawing room as Mycroft walked back in the room. "Where's the beer?"

"I couldn't find them." Mycroft mumbled slightly embarrassed. "Are we eating in here?" He couldn't hide his distaste.

"Not if you don't want to?" Greg walked towards him standing in the doorway and Mycroft turned sideways to let him passed. As Greg slipped passed he put his hands on Mycroft's hips to steady himself and Mycroft got lost. "Hmm?" Greg asked as he walked a few steps and stopped still looking at Mycroft.

"No, it's fine." Mycroft managed to stutter out and watched Greg walk towards the kitchen. He then walked quickly to follow him. Greg held open the east wing door for him and looked questioningly. "In case you fall over." They walked the length of the house and got to the kitchen. When they walked in Greg approached the fridge and opened it. Right at the front was the beer. He turned to look to Mycroft. "I didn't look in there."

"Why not?"

Mycroft looked between to fridge and cool storage cupboard as Greg turned back to the fridge. "No idea."

Greg pulled out two bottles of beer, one in each hand, and extended them outwards as he turned back to Mycroft. "Do you want beer or would you prefer wine or something?"

"Beer is fine." Mycroft stood like a schoolboy waiting to be told off. Greg now held two bottles in each hand as he closed the fridge door and glanced to Mycroft. He put them down on the big table in the middle of the kitchen and leaned on it for support.

"Don't look like that, Mycroft." He sighed.

"I'm sorry," There was no point in denying it, he knew his expression was betraying everything he felt but he couldn't stop it, "I'm just…" He sighed too.

Greg walked towards him with difficulty and stopped right in front of him. He lifted his hands until his left was on Mycroft's neck and his right cupped his face when his eyes searched Mycroft's face for a few moments as the man dared to gently hold Greg's hips. Greg slowly leaned in, keeping his eyes on Mycroft's for as long as he was able to see before softly and cautiously kissing him. Both of their lips were closed and their eyes followed suit. The kiss was gentle and firm and when they reluctantly pulled apart Greg nudged the left side of Mycroft's nose with his. He let his right hand reach up and, using his middle finger, he traced Mycroft's hairline down towards his ear.

"Don't be. Hmm?" Mycroft nodded a little but hadn't opened his eyes yet.

"I love you." Mycroft whispered with a slight croak.

"I know." Greg smiled and stepped away to pick up the beers which is when Mycroft dared to look. "Come on, the pizza will get cold."


	3. Chapter 3

They settled on the floor, both wore just shirts and trousers except that Mycroft had his waistcoat on too. Their shoes were lined up at the side of the couch and both of their jackets were draped over the far arm of it just ghosting them. Mycroft was sitting in front of the armchair at the end of the room to Greg's right, behind the door, as opposed to the two sat next to the fire and Greg was leaning against the couch as he swallowed and wiped his hands on a napkin.

Mycroft moved all of the beer bottles away as they were empty and Greg closed the box. "You sure you don't want the last bit?" Greg offered but Mycroft just shook his head and patted his stomach. Greg put his hands on the couch cushions behind him to push himself up and Mycroft scrambled to help him. "Thank you." Mycroft leaned behind Greg to move a cushion and as he pulled away Greg looked up. They look at each other for a few seconds before Mycroft smiled a little and moved to pick up the boxes and bottles. "Just leave them here?"

"They'll annoy me." Mycroft shrugged, walked out of the door along the hallway back towards the kitchen. He exhaled as he walked its length knowing what was coming. He tried not to be scared like Greg had said but he was. He tried to remember his words outside of the hospital and reassure himself with the memory of that kiss on his lips but all that did was make him more worried.

He walked back and Greg looked up as he closed the door behind him. He stood there and they looked around the room. "Well." Greg offered and then they descended into silence again.

"I just have to know." Mycroft walked and sat down next to Greg. "Is there still a chance that you'll walk out of here tonight and never come back? That's the one thing that I really do need to know."

Greg paused for a minute. "Yes." Mycroft sat back a little and nodded. "I don't want to, in no way or I wouldn't still be sitting here but…" He blew out heavily. "But yeah, I can't say there's not. I need to know everything and until I do I can't say there isn't because that wouldn't be fair to you. It's kinder just to tell you that truth, is it not?"

Mycroft looked up at Greg. The man was obviously worried and scared like Mycroft but he was still there after all. Mycroft nodded just a little. "Indeed." He caught the detective's meaning. He looked back to Greg. "Shall we begin?"


	4. Chapter 4

"Right." Greg rubbed his neck briefly. "I want you to tell me it all, from the beginning."

Mycroft nodded and sat back. "Okay. Well after John took all of those pills, there was another attempt on his life." Greg didn't say anything. "Sherlock spoke to him about his own attempt and John left for work with the promise that they would discuss it further when he returned that evening. Well, that was the plan but Sherlock ended up with a case." He paused looking at Greg's face realising. He closed his eyes and sighed.

"What?" Greg leaned forward. "What's wrong?"

Mycroft opened his eyes. "Promise me that you won't blame yourself for it."

"For what, what did I do?" Greg's voice was suddenly panicked.

"That's what I'm talking about, you didn't do anything but Sherlock ended up on a case and I know you, since you're the one that gave it to him then you'll end up blaming yourself for what happened and it wasn't your fault."

Greg breathed in. "Not my fault?"

"No."

"Okay then, if you say it wasn't my fault then I'll _try_ not to blame myself but I make no promises until I've heard it."

"Fair enough." Mycroft shuffled a little. "When Sherlock got back from Chelsea, he said?" Greg showed a little glint of recognition. "He found John sitting in the dark…" Mycroft paused. "With a gun in his mouth."

Greg's eyes widened. "Wha…"

Mycroft put his hands up. "He managed to talk him down, obviously, but things just wouldn't get any better and Sherlock knew that one day he would be too late. He text me, he said 'I need your help but you can't tell Lestrade'." As Mycroft lowered his hands he felt a little weird calling Greg that and it was subtly clear that Greg felt weird hearing it.

"And what did you say?"

"I told him the truth." Mycroft took a breath. "I said that it depended what it was." Greg nodded. "I'm sorry but like you said, he's my broth-"

Greg put his hand up and Mycroft fell to silence. Greg laughed a little but not from amusement and Mycroft looked on a little worried. "I know you'll do anything for him but just hearing you say it like that is, uh… a little… I don't know how to take it."

There was a sad silence in the room for a little while.

Eventually Greg rubbed his hair and turned back to look at Mycroft. "Okay then, what did he answer with?"

"He said 'Saving John Watson's life, once and for all'." Greg then made a gesture for Mycroft to keep going. "We devised a plan, I argued with him a hundred times over, not even stating the obvious, I told him-"

"What's the obvious? Don't skip over parts, Mycroft. This isn't a film, we can't just skip to after this and hope everything will be 's obvious to you is not always obvious to everyone else."

The elder Holmes unbuttoned his waistcoat and laid it over the arm of the chair next to him as he spoke. "Apologies. I argued with him that it was a ridiculous and overly dramatic idea, the poor man was in the state he was in because he already had one man's life on his conscious and did he really expect that having another would do him any favours. He argued that I was only saying all of that because I didn't want to lie to you and I told him that he was half right – I believed everything I was saying _and_ I didn't want to lie to you. And then we got into this massive argument about how could I actively risk one man's life to stop inconveniencing myself."

Greg watched as Mycroft unconsciously shuffled onto the end of the couch pulling his feet up onto the cushion so that his whole body was facing Greg, stretched his arms down around his legs until he curled his fingers around his feet. Greg turned a little to watch him, it wasn't often that Mycroft got genuinely upset and Greg was still getting used to it involving him.

"I spat abuse at him about how he didn't think about that when he decided to take his own life for real and that risking my happiness was not inconveniencing myself rather that the whole existence of my happiness was an inconvenience to him. I shouldn't have said that because I know that isn't true but I was mad. How could I not be? The first time in a long time that I was happy and he wanted me throw that away for a stranger and then I felt awful because that stranger was John and…" Mycroft sighed and hit his head off of his knees. "I made him promise something awful."

"Made him promise what?" Greg turned a little.

Mycroft lifted his head and his eyes were red. He paused. "I made him promise, I said that he had to promise if we were going to do this, to fake his death and keep it from you and John, that if we were really going to do this and to prove that it was about John and not about anything else."

"What else could it be about?"

Mycroft grunted and hit his head again. "I don't know! I don't know what I was thinking." He looked up. "I was just so wound up between the thought of Sherlock committing suicide again, whether it was real or not, and the threat of John killing himself. But the thought of lying to you and maybe losing you was just… I just… I don't know."

"Mycroft, what did you make him promise?" Greg leaned forward, getting more anxious.

Mycroft looked to Greg for a second before he finally said it. "I made him promise not to come back."

Suddenly Greg felt sick.


	5. Chapter 5

"You did what?" Greg stood up, forgetting about his foot and not caring.

"I told him that if it really was about saving John and not about proving something then he had to leave London and not come back."

"What on earth possessed you?" Greg walked towards the fireplace and turned as Mycroft left his legs fall.

"What possessed me? You mean what possessed me to tell my own brother that I could never see him again?" He stood up and faced Greg. "You."

"Don't blame this on me!"

"I'm not but that's what _possessed_ me! You know," He looked around the room, "someone bangs at my door at 3 in the morning, so late that none of the staff can even hear it. I go to answer it and open it you." Mycroft let out a fond laugh remembering. "Tie hanging off, shirt half open, shoes covered in mud and drenched from head to toe."

"It was raining." Greg shrugged still angry.

"You were carrying your jacket?"

"I had been drinking." Greg sighed the words and leaned on the fireplace with his left hand.

"I know. You turned up, 'You, Mister Mycroft," Mycroft could see Greg internally wince, "I need to talk to you! I've been talking to your brother!' Pushing past me into the entrance hall and sauntering in here." Mycroft gestured around the room. "Mud trailing everywhere. I wanted to know what he had to done to warrant a bottle of whiskey and turning up here so late. And you just came out with it."

"Yeah, so?" Greg tried to act nonchalant as he turned to look at Mycroft again wondering where this was going, taking in everything he had just been hit with and trying to ignore the pulse in his foot as he tried to keep the weight off of it.

"Slurring, 'He tells me that you fancy me, is it true?' Well, I didn't know what to say. What could I say?"

"Funnily enough, the truth never crossed your mind." Greg spat and instantly regretted.

Mycroft ignored it because he knew he deserved that and much worse. "Of course it did but what was I going to do? Confess my feelings to a man who hadn't accepted his sexuality, who had just ended his marriage and a man who considered me a friend?"

"Anything is better than 'Gregory, I have no idea to what you may be referring.' It wasn't convincing at all even to someone as drunk as me."

"Well, you caught me unaware. And you weren't as drunk as you were making out."

"Well I was until I walked here, I didn't realise it was so far away." Greg raised his eyebrows remembering the trek and the pavement that felt like a treadmill. "Besides, I called you out on lying and you just told me. You couldn't have been that worried." Greg took a few steps towards Mycroft and shrugged.

"I was but, in all honesty I thought, he's drunk, he won't remember." They shared a smile. "You said that I might be able to lie to you but I couldn't lie to Sherlock. How could I argue with that?" Mycroft shrugged.

"'Alright then, if you really want to know… I have feelings for you, I don't know when they developed but I can assure you I am working on getting rid of them.'" Greg smiled remembering as they continued to say each other's lines from that night.

"'Don't do that.' And then that kiss." Mycroft instinctively put his hand to the back of his head and looked to the wall in between the armchair and the door behind him.

"Yeah, sorry about that." Greg laughed a little remembering as, that night, he had pushed Mycroft back to the wall with such enthusiasm that Mycroft's head had smacked off the wall, they had broken apart and Greg had cupped Mycroft's head in his right hand apologising incessantly as Mycroft had insisted it was fine.

"Never be sorry about that." Mycroft smiled and then they looked at each other for a second of two. "Listen, Sherlock was going to do what he was going to whether I helped him or not. I knew that he would be okay, safe, wherever he went and I would keep my eye on him. I just… I just didn't want to lose you but there was John and I didn't know what was the right thing to do was." Mycroft was beginning to get upset again. "I was stuck and… you tell me, what was I supposed to do? I swear…" Mycroft was shuffling on the spot as he did when he didn't know what to say or do or feel. Greg took another few steps towards him as he started to get upset at the sight of Mycroft doing the same. "I swear I didn't even _think_ that you might feel guilty, I was so wrapped up in what I was feeling and John and Sherlock that I didn't even stop to think and I should have."

Greg put his hand out for Mycroft's arm. "Hey, it's okay."

"No, it's not because I should have thought and I didn't. He wasn't even here and I couldn't stop thinking about it all, about him, about John, about everything. About us." Greg moved his right hand to Mycroft's left shoulder and then stepped into Mycroft's space as he moved his left hand up to Mycroft's neck. Mycroft responded by putting his hands on both of Greg's upper arms in an effort to pull at him, closer but not. Just grasping at him, as if to reiterate that he was real in that moment through fear that he was getting ready to leave. He glanced to his crutches in the corner and hoped they would stay there. "The minute I realised about how you felt I went after him."

"I know you did."

"I swear, that night I had my people locate him and then the next day-"

"I know." Greg moved both of his hands up to Mycroft's face.

"- I found him and told him, I said I couldn't do it any more. No matter what happened it all needed to stop. If you had walked I would have understood. It just needed to stop your pain-"

"Mycroft..."

"- And if you walk out now I will still understand." Greg shook his head a little 'shh'ing Mycroft. "I will, I mean it will kill me, really kill me, but I will understand."

Greg realised Mycroft couldn't hear a word he was saying. He pushed him backwards, which shut him up, until he was up against that infamous wall. There was a slight bump as they hit the wall. "Mycroft?" Greg said, lower than he had been speaking all night.

"I will." Mycroft whispered it as he looked in Greg's eyes, the mere sight of them calming him slightly as Greg got closer and closer to his face. To his lips.

"I know." Greg whispered against his lips and Mycroft looked at Greg for just a second before extending his next just enough to close the last few centimetres and kiss. They stood like that for a few minutes, what started out as a reassurance changed, they were slightly pawing at each other as if they couldn't decide where to leave their hands and not sure what to do. When Mycroft let his tongue just brush Greg's lip, Greg's gave in and their movements became charged and in need of something else. In need of the night.

Mycroft moved his lips to Greg's neck, Greg's eyes opened as if suddenly waking up, after a second he moved to allow Mycroft more access and when he let a moan escape his mouth Mycroft forgot all about Greg's foot. He guided him backwards and to the right and up against the wall beside the light switch on the other side of the closed door. Greg let his head tilt back against the wall and held onto Mycroft's hips, Mycroft began unbuttoning the Inspector's shirt, his kisses moved further up towards Greg's face who brought his head back to meet Mycroft when they began kissing again. As Mycroft leaned to his right Greg focused his attention on the left side of Mycroft's own neck as he pulled the man's shirt out of his trousers. Mycroft was reaching for the door and as he pulled it open Greg began to walk him out of the doorway backwards. Neither of them were paying any attention as Mycroft had finally got Greg's shirt completely unbuttoned and Greg was halfway there with Mycroft's. So when they reached the bottom of the stairs and tried to walk up them, kissing and pulling at clothing with Mycroft walking backwards, they tripped but Mycroft managed to put out his right hand to grab onto the banister and stop them, he caught Greg in his left arm but the weight of them meant that Greg kept falling. The end result was Greg lying on his back on the stairs and Mycroft lying on top of them. They then both began pissing themselves laughing.

"Oh!" Greg had his eyes screwed up laughing but also a little in pain.

"Your foot?" Mycroft looked down but Greg shook his head and brought his left hand up to the back of his head. "Oh, did you hit on the step?" Mycroft laughed in the way you do when something bad happens as Greg nodded. Mycroft put his hand on top of Greg's on the back of his head. "I'm sorry, I tried to catch you." He briefly thought back to when he did just that outside of the hospital.

"I know." Greg said and they both burst out laughing again. Mycroft stood up and helped Greg to his feet. He laughed as Mycroft helped Greg hobble up the stairs. When they got to the top they stopped and looked at each other. Mycroft extended his neck and made to kiss Greg. He let his nose touch Greg's right cheek before he paused. They looked at each other before slowly beginning to kiss again.

Mycroft tried to steer Greg backwards as he pushed his shirt from his shoulders and struggled with the cuffs. As it wasn't quite working Mycroft eventually just stopped, turned Greg on the spot and pushed him up against the wall that had been to his right. Greg got a little shock as he bumped against the wall just as Mycroft had done in the drawing room. Greg's shirt was still caught at both of the cuffs and as he tried to pull his hands up the body of the shirt stopped him going any further. They kissed but Greg couldn't stand that Mycroft's shirt was lying open and yet he couldn't touch him.

"Are," Mycroft went back to kissing Greg's neck when he began to speak, "you going to help me with these or was this your plan all along?" Mycroft chuckled a little and slid his hands down to the cuffs of Greg's shirt. As he opened it he pulled the cuff to let Greg's arm escape. When the other had been dealt with the shirt fell to the floor, Greg brought both his hands up, skimming Mycroft's chest, neck and ears before his fingers ran upwards through Mycroft's hair and pulled him in for a kiss. Mycroft fussed with his own cuffs as they began walking in the direction of their bedroom again, Greg leading.

He was hobbling slightly as Mycroft's shirt fell to the floor and Mycroft reached for Greg's belt. In his rush Mycroft had started to undo the belt with his left hand and grabbed his bum with his right hand, the fact that Mycroft was there on his body meant that Greg lost his footing a little and backed Mycroft into the skirting around the doorway and when that happened it pushed Mycroft's hand flush against Greg's bulge.

And that sent everything to shit. Greg let out a moan which only spurred Mycroft to do it again. Greg reached for Mycroft's belt and tried not to grind up against Mycroft, which would make taking his belt off much more difficult. Instead of removing each other's belts and getting them out of the way they focused on getting their trousers out of the way. Greg reached and opened the door to their bedroom, Mycroft pushed him against the other side of the skirting as Greg managed to get Mycroft's belt and zip open and he let out a sigh which broke them apart. Greg smiled a little as he opened his own trousers and did the same.

They shared a smile when Greg slipped his hand around the back of Mycroft, into his trousers and grabbed his bum, with a nudge of his wrist Mycroft's trousers began to fall, Mycroft went back to kissing Greg's neck and ground into Greg a little just to hear him moan. It was a fantastic noise. Mycroft's trousers fell and he pushed them completely off and then they stumbled into the room. He pushed Greg's down as they moved towards the bed. Greg moved Mycroft around so that his back was to the bed, his left hit the bed and he fell down to sitting. Greg was kicking off his trousers when Mycroft reached to stroke his stomach looking up, first at his stomach and then to Greg.

The detective closed his eyes and hummed in response to the touch. His feet were still padding on the ground as he tried to get his trousers off of his feet without making Mycroft stop touching him. Mycroft stroked both of his hands up towards Greg's abdomen and then, bringing his left down to the Inspector's right hip, he brought his other down and gently rubbed Greg's erection through his boxers. Greg's right hand instinctively reached out a leaned on Mycroft's shoulder to steady himself. Mycroft leaned forward and kissed up Greg's upper thigh, then he pulled his boxers down at Greg's right side and kissed where the cloth used to be, he then softly bit where he had kissed whilst simultaneously using his right hand to unhook Greg's penis from the top of his boxers. He finally pushed the other side down which allowed the boxers to fall completely.

Mycroft, in one slow movement took Greg in his mouth. Greg moaned low and deep before he closed his eyes as Mycroft's tongue trailed up Greg's length. Mycroft's left hand held Greg while his right just cupped the back of his upper leg. A minute or two later Greg's hand pushed Mycroft's shoulder a little and he let go of Greg who knelled down where he was, on the floor, and rested both of his hands on Mycroft's upper legs.

"This is it now, it's finished." Mycroft didn't get his meaning. "I don't want to hear about it anymore. A death was faked, a secret was kept and a man's life saved. Now it's all out and over with, I don't want to keep rehashing the same argument." Mycroft shook his head. "Because I understand, I do. Forgiven. Obviously we can't never mention it again because it will come up but this," He leaned and kissed Mycroft, "this argument is settled." Mycroft nodded as they kissed again. "If there's anything else you want to add, you may want to chime in now." He searched Mycroft's face with the only light shining on them coming in from the hallway.

Mycroft nodded and Greg sighed as his heart skipped a beat. "Go and shut the door." Mycroft smiled and Greg laughed. He stood up and walked over as Mycroft stood too, letting his own boxers fall. The last strip of light was locked out as the shadow figure walked back to Mycroft who sat on the bed and slowly edged into the middle as he felt the mattress dip at either side of him. There was a little hesitance before the curtains came down around the four poster bed and Mycroft smirked knowing that he had told Greg it took him ages to put them back the last time. "Oh you are going to pay for that."

The figure crawled up the bed and over Mycroft. He was kissed before he felt a warmth on his cheek of Greg's own left cheek. Then a seductively rough voice whispered in his left ear. "Promises."

Mycroft let out a laugh before he flipped Greg over on the bed, his legs now in between the Inspector's. He felt Greg's arms move towards him and he threw them down on the bed, pinning them there. He heard a little laugh escape from Greg. He kissed the point where Greg's neck met his chest and then dragged his nose, in a tickle, up the left side of his neck. "I was so worried," He whispered in Greg's ear, "that you would never forgive me." He slowly moved to look at Greg's face, which was impossible in the dark that surrounded them but he didn't care. "I really thought I would lose you, I was convinced." He kissed Greg once.

"Well you didn't." Greg lifted his left leg to rub his inner thigh along Mycroft's right.

"How do I know that this is real?" He kissed him again. "That this isn't a dream?"

Greg bucked his hips up against Mycroft. "Doesn't it feel real?" A gasp escaped Mycroft's lips onto Greg's as the Inspector wrapped his legs around Mycroft's waist. Mycroft shook his head slowly. "No?" Mycroft idly wondered how the detective had seen him in the dark but he was distracted by the fact that they hadn't stop rutting slightly against each other.

Mycroft slowly let Greg's left arm go and moved his hand to Greg's jaw, he dragged his thumb down over his cheek and then down onto his lips. He let the pad of his thumb part Greg's lips as the man's left hand rested on Mycroft's bare side. "Being with you will always feel like a dream. I just hope I never wake up from it."

Mycroft couldn't see in the darkness but Greg was visibly (or maybe not) surprised by his words. Mycroft could, however, feel the smile spread onto his face under his thumb. Mycroft moved close to Greg's mouth. "Now, back to that promise of mine."


	6. Chapter 6

Mycroft got a lovely wake up call. It took him a few seconds for it to completely rouse him into consciousness. He knew something was touching his skin but he couldn't quite understand what or where. He hummed as he tried to turn over only to be gently pushed back to lying flat on the bed by a pressure on the left side of his hip. He looked down to it and still couldn't see a bloody thing but now he could feel it. And with that he let out a moan. He reached his right hand down and came into contact with the top of Greg's head, he ran his fingers through the hair and down the side of his face.

"Gregory…" Mycroft moaned and he felt a rumbled in reply which just spurred him on. He brought his left hand to the pillow and slipped in underneath to grab onto something, he lifted the pillow at the side a little as he was breathing heavily.

He felt air on his, now moist, cock as Greg released it. "You've no idea how much I love your voice when you've just woken up. Especially saying my name." And then the cold air was replaced with warmth again.

"Oh god," Mycroft replaced his right hand, which he had let fall to the bed when Greg had spoken, scrape back through the Inspector's hair again, "keep doing that and I'll be saying it plenty." This got a low chuckle from Greg until there was a ringing noise.

Mycroft sighed as Greg moved up the bed, out of the curtains which let light in to get his phone. As he shuffled back in, Mycroft stroked his hands up Greg's torso when he leaned over Mycroft looking at his phone, the curtain had stayed open and the light meant Mycroft and Greg could see each other's faces again. "Work?" Greg shook his head. "Ignore it then."

Mycroft kissed Greg's neck once before Greg answered the phone. "John, what's up?"

Mycroft realised but kept kissing Greg's neck and stroking his torso thinking about the cheek John had interrupting his perfect morning.

There was talking on the other end and Mycroft mouthed to Greg to hang up. Greg shook his head as he made general 'I'm listening' noises. Mycroft sighed and pushed Greg backwards on the bed. He gave out a gasp and Mycroft laughed. "What? No, nothing mate. Carry on."

Greg gave Mycroft a look as the man went back to kissing his neck. He could see Greg's breathing hitching as he ground just a little against him and decided this was too much fun to stop. He reached down and took Greg's erection in his hand. Greg shook his head and widened his eyes at Mycroft but it was rather ruined by the fact that he was biting his lip. "Right, yeah." He found himself grinding his hips against Mycroft and he cleared his throat. "Definitely mate, alright we'll see you lot later." He clicked the phone and threw it on the bed but made no attempt to move.

"Drinks at Baker Street to celebrate John's engagement properly."

"I see." Mycroft whispered into Greg's ear.

"You're going to pay for that." Greg was referring to Mycroft's antics while he was on the phone but still made no attempt to move. Greg moved his right hand to stroke Mycroft's left arm which was holding him up over the detective and he barely got the words out as he closed his eyes.

Mycroft just laughed. "I know."


End file.
